Today was rough. I hadn’t had a rough day in a while. I’ve had rough moments, but I always, somehow manage to regain my footing. Today the sadness has just kept close to me today. Just when I thought I was pulling out, sadness struck again today.
My darkness today started with a light. This light was so beautiful that it brought a smile to my face and warmth in my heart. However, that shining light was quickly followed by guilt. The guilt was so heavy that it was hard to breath. A friend created her status on facebook for a protest and remembrance of babyloss. This friend, to my knowledge, had not experienced babyloss expect for Sam. This public protest against the taboo of stillbirths/babyloss was so heart warming to me it brought guilt. (Now, I don’t want her to feel that she shouldn’t have done this because I feel the exact opposite-I couldn’t be more proud.) But there was guilt that swarmed around my head. The guilt filled me because I see it as because of me she had to fester that type of courage; she would have never have had to do that if it weren’t for me. I was informed that a few other people put this on their status and that makes me smile. Smile, because the shroud is slowly lifting from the faces of the babyloss community.
Then I get another baby announcement/baptism invite in the mail today. This is the second one from close family that I have gotten since Sam was born. I have to say it…are people really that stupid? It doesn’t bother Lucas like it bothers me. He sees it as just another announcement or invite. I, on the other hand, see it as a slap in the face that someone else got to walk out of the hospital with their head held high, a smile on the face, and joy and love overflowing their hearts. What did I get? I got to walk out of the hospital with a white box with a purple ribbon on it and my son’s hospital hat and blanket inside. I got to leave shattered and broken, ever to be pieced back together again; forever, broken and un-whole; always missing a piece of my life, my heart. I know that these people mean nothing by their efforts of sharing their joy. But, come on, seriously, think about how that might make a babyloss mother feel.
Third, I went to a mall that I was last at pregnant. I remember being there and thinking about Sam’s arrival; shopping with Michalina in tow. Raiding the Carters clearance rack for the cute little baby boy clothes, searching for the perfect outfit to bring Sam home in. Just being near the stores I was in months earlier were hard for me to swallow.
The sadness. It always manages to find it’s way back into my heart. Missing Sam today more than ever. I want to hold and feel his warm cheeks against mine. Sadness strikes as I prepare for work to come at me full swing. The normalcy makes me shiver with guilt. how am I supposed to go about living a “normal” or “before Sam” life knowing that my baby is gone. I type with tears streaming down my face and think a burrow seems like a great place to retire and never emerge again. I just want to hide and wait for Sam to come and get me.
Today, I ache. The darkness that lurks around the corner daily has filled my day. Sadness is not what it used to be. Sadness is so much more. There are no words that could describe what sadness is to a babyloss mom. Sadness is pain.
Here are a few pictures that we took on our Sam vacation. The book is something I read to Sam every time I visit him.